Running 101: Learn to Teach

Already hitting your marks? Become a grade-A mentor to a brand-new runner.

I am only halfway through a 5-K, and I'm tapped. My legs are not the problem. It's my head that's working overtime, searching for the right thing to say. Pip Slaughter runs beside me. Seven weeks ago, I was charged with guiding her training and getting her across the finish line. "I have to walk," she says as we hit an incline. "Okay, we'll walk to the stop sign, then pick it up again," I say, trying to bridge the gap between cheerleader and dictator. It's 93 degrees on this August afternoon in Denver, the hill we're climbing isn't insignificant, and Pip, 32, is red-cheeked and huffing. "You're doing a great job," I tell her, lightly patting her on the back. "We're over halfway there."

Pip and I were paired through a program dreamed up by Skirt Sports founder Nicole DeBoom. With a sense of enthusiasm as strong as her cut calves, DeBoom wants to encourage as many people as possible to run, especially women. Her popular Skirt Chaser 5-K Race Series—in which mostly skirt-clad women start three minutes ahead of men—has attracted legions of first-timers since its 2007 inception. "But I'd stand at the start of a race, look around and see different versions of myself," DeBoom says. "I knew there was a huge group of women who had not had the chance to feel the power of running."

So DeBoom decided to launch Kick Start in the summer of 2010 to cater to beginning (or lapsed) runners who struggle with some kind of barrier to regular exercise—lifestyle, financial, or health-related. Interested women apply online, and upon acceptance, receive an eight-week training program, free entry into a Skirt Chaser 5-K, a cute top and swishy running skirt to wear in the race, and as much encouragement as they need, mostly from their own personal motivator, an experienced runner who checks in with them at least once a week. Thirteen women completed the inaugural Kick Start in Denver; another 15 participated in Tempe, Arizona, in February. "The goal is to offer as much access as possible into the world of running," says Isabel McDevitt, the program's director. "We want to help them fall in love with running so they continue the habit on their own."

While I do my best to donate to nonprofits, in this economy, sending a check to every friend running for a cause isn't the same no-brainer it used to be. Mentoring seems an ideal solution. You can give your time and passion for running—and get in a few miles of your own. In return, you get a tangible, inspiring payback: another runner in the world.

And so I walk to the bottom of yet another steep hill, trying to figure out the words to help Pip keep running. "Let's get this thing done," I say. We step even with the stop sign, and I pick up the pace. I take about 10 steps and look over to encourage her again. She's not there. I look behind me and see her, still walking.

The first Kick Start meeting took place in an active-women's clothing store on a Saturday morning in early July 2010, seven weeks before the Denver Skirt Chaser 5-K. Among the 20 women sipping water and eating granola bars, there was a palpable divide between personal motivators (PMs) and novice runners. But that barrier crumbled as we went around the room, sharing our stories. Kristina Freisem, a PM, talked about how she comes from a family of sports fans and was overweight until she started running in her late 20s; she's since run 50 marathons. Melanie McDonald, a former high school cross-country runner, quit working out when her daughter was born with cystic fibrosis. Christina Ward, 46, admitted to being worried she'd be the only old and out-of-shape mom in the crowd. (She wasn't.) Three years ago, Kathleen Allen, a PM, broke four vertebrae, both wrists, and a rib when she was riding her bike and collided with a truck. "My doctors told me I wouldn't have gotten through if I hadn't been in such good shape," Allen told us. "Exercise basically saved my life."

McDevitt had paired us up randomly before the meeting, and my runner was a native Australian and a former Ultimate Frisbee player who had run a few 5-Ks in 37 minutes and walked the Bolder Boulder, a 10-K. Sensing her athletic capability, I asked Pip Slaughter how she felt about a goal of sub-35 minutes. "I think it's possible," she said, adding that she thought she could run the whole way. As we headed out for a run/walk, Pip told me she moved to Lafayette, Colorado, with her American husband and kids two years ago and had been struggling ever since. "I have been on the back foot, fitness-wise, and my depression has deepened," she said. "And my motivation has flown out the window. Vicious spiral, really."

Suddenly McDevitt's pairings didn't seem so random; I am intimately familiar with that spiral myself. I tend to keep my struggles with depression close to my chest, but I found myself sharing my trials with a woman I'd known for less than an hour. My eyes got watery when I told her how integral running is to my mental health. When my legs are pleasantly exhausted, my mind is quiet, and my mood is endorphin-laced, I can see the world from a balanced mind-set. We ended the run with a hug, and I left feeling good about the possibility that I could help her find some of the peace that running has brought to my soul.

But I am not a therapist or a personal trainer or even very patient. Mentoring a runner requires a delicate balance between gentle motivation and tough love, and as I discovered during the following seven weeks, I have a very difficult time separating my love for running from what I think someone else's love of running should be. If I found healing in running, Pip should, too. If I make running a priority in my life, she should, too.

I tried not to impose my beliefs too sternly. She tended to complete two of the three weekly workouts, which I knew wouldn't be enough to break 35 minutes. When we talked, I suggested that she get up before the heat hits and the kids wake, but I often hung up frustrated, because her voice sounded flat, and I felt like if she could just figure out the morning runs, she'd get the mental boost she clearly needed. Still, when she did e-mail about a run, I felt as happy as if I'd run myself.

At the starting line of the Skirt Chaser 5-K, Pip looks great in the Kick Start uniform of pink top and black skirt, despite the relentless heat. "This is about remembering your goals," I say. We finish the first mile in about 10 minutes, and I tell her I like how this pace adds up, even though secretly I'm worried we're going out too hard for a hot day. Then she needs to walk. "Twenty-second break," I say. When we start running again, I run slower and put myself just a half step in front of her, hoping a little leading will do the trick.

"I'm doing the best I can," she says. "I really am." The combination of high expectations, paralyzing heat, and massive physical effort has frazzled her. "I know you are," I say. "I can see it. Nice, nice job."

For the rest of the way, she dictates when we run and when we walk. Near the end, I ask if she can finish strong. She says she can, and we run it home in 39:51.

Later, she gets a bit teary when she says she thinks she has disappointed me. I feel like a jerk, and I do my best to atone.

"How many people never even start a 5-K?" I say. "You got out here, and you finished. No apologies necessary."

A few weeks later, I hear from Pip after she and her family have completed their move back to Australia. Although she was bummed that she couldn't run the full 5-K, she acknowledges that a hilly course on a blazing day wasn't exactly ideal. More importantly, she says Kick Start helped her realize that she needs to make time for herself to run. "I'm still working on figuring it out," she says.

The experience stuck with me, too. When—not if—I have the chance to encourage another runner, I am simply going to be grateful for the steps we take together, and believe that they will give her the impetus to take more on her own. Pip still enters my head while I run. From across the ocean, I send her thoughts of mental peace and physical strength, and hope she took the time to run today.

WORLD'S SIMPLEST TRAINING PLAN

6 Weeks to a 5-KWith this plan, you run three days a week—an easy run on Tuesday, a hard run on Thursday, and a long run on Sunday. (You can run on different days, but rest one day in between runs.) Do easy runs at a conversational pace—no huffing and puffing. On your hard runs, jog easy for one mile, then run a quarter-mile at a moderately hard pace. Walk briskly for a quarter-mile, then pick up the pace for a quarter-mile. Cool down with a half-mile jog.

WEEK 1Tuesday: 1 mile Thursday: 2 x 1/4 miles Sunday: 2 miles

WEEK 2Tuesday: 1 mile Thursday: 2 x 1/4 miles Sunday: 2 miles

WEEK 3Tuesday: 2 miles Thursday: 3 x 1/4 miles Sunday: 2 miles

WEEK 4Tuesday: 2 miles Thursday: 3 x 1/4 miles Sunday: 2 miles

WEEK 5Tuesday: 2 miles Thursday: 4 x 1/4 miles Sunday: 2 miles

WEEK 6Tuesday: 2 miles Thursday: 2 x 1/4 miles Sunday: 2 miles

Nice Job!How to set a newbie on a path to success

GET HER WALKINGIf your newbie is sedentary, encourage her to start with three weeks of walking, four times a week, for 30 minutes. "That will get her in the habit of finding time to exercise and prepare her body for running," says Christine Hinton, an RRCA-certified coach in Crofton, Maryland.

AND THEN RUN A BIT"Start with as little as two minutes of running and four minutes of walking," says Hinton. "And repeat that five times." Keeping 30 minutes as the workout duration, incrementally increase the running time and decrease the walking time.

TRY FOR FOURRecommend walk/run sessions four days a week. "Let the running come slowly," says Hinton. "That keeps injuries and frustration at bay."

GO REAL SLOWIf you run with a beginner, don't plan on it being a workout for you, says Hinton. Instead, do your run first, and then head out with her at her pace.

LISTEN TO REASONSWhy does your friend want to start running? "If it's for fun or fitness, just getting out there is great," says Stephen Walker, Ph.D., a sports psychologist in Boulder, Colorado. "If it's for a time goal, remind her that she needs to work hard in training."

REMEMBER TO CHEER"Every athlete wants to quit at some point," says Walker. "The key is to limit the negative self-talk." Help her set doable goals—and applaud her when she reaches them.